scrape me clean of everything but you
by HaneGaNai
Summary: Peter doesn't like when Stiles smells too strongly of others. Written for Galifret H.M Peck's prompt: a fic in with Peter leaving a hickey on Stiles, because he doesn't like the way Derek acts with Stiles. Or is it because Derek seems to always take away Peter's things?


When Stiles knocked on Peter's door after a long day of Derek forcing them through drills he'd expected a kiss and a quip about how he could have at least bothered to shower before his visit. What he got was a frown and Peter nose diving for his neck.

"Dude, stop sniffing at me. I'm all sweaty, it's disgusting." Stiles sidestepped Peter and invited himself into the apartment, chucking his shoes in the hall.

Seriously, werewolves. _His life_.

"You smell like him." Peter groused, a dark expression on his face, as he fallowed after Stiles into the kitchen.

Stiles opened the fridge feeling completely at ease after months together with the snarky wolf and pulled out a bottle of water. He was half sure Derek wanted him to dehydrate with the way he ran his werewolf boot camp. Stiles could swear that Derek sparred with him the longest too, despite him being a measly human.

He was close to keeling over, which was one of the reasons he stopped at Peter's since it was closer to the Hale House. All the other reasons was leaning against the kitchen table and glaring daggers at him.

"Like who?" Stiles unscrewed the bottle and arched his neck a little taking a big gulp. He barely concealed his smirk as Peter's eyes were immediately drawn to the long line of his throat. He was so easy to play sometimes.

"Derek." Peter finally admitted, words stilted as if he had to force them out.

Stiles hopped onto the counter across from Peter and leaned his head against the side of the fridge tiredly. He wasn't sure since you could never be sure with Peter, but he had a good hunch what this was about.

"I've spent the last few hours training with the pack so I guess that's reasonable." He replied, playing with the water bottle in his hands absently, twisting the cap open and closed again.

Peter kept close watch on his hands as if Stiles was distracting him. Maybe he was. Stiles knew Peter had a thing for his fingers. And his mouth too which is why he flicked his tongue over his lips, worrying his lower lip with his teeth briefly.

Mm, yeah. He could clearly see Peter's eyes spark up with interest a moment before the wolf advanced.

"No, you do smell like the rest of the brats, but you smell of him the most." Peter slotted himself expertly between Stiles' legs, plucking the bottle out of Stiles' hand and putting it on the counter. The wolf drew his hands upwards over Stiles' thighs until he could grab at the meat of Stiles' ass and pull him closer towards the edge of the counter.

This time Stiles didn't move away when Peter made a move for his neck, allowing the werewolf to sniff his sweaty skin to his heart's content.

"You reek as if he rubbed all over you."

"Well, it was pretty intense." He replied playfully earning himself pointy claws prickling his ass through the material of his sweats. That was definitely _not_ going to make him shut up. He wrapped his arms around Peter's neck, running one hand over Peter's hair and mussing the neatly stylized strands. Disheveled was a much better look on Peter, especially since it was a look only Stiles got to see. "Aw, are you jealous of your nephew?" Stiles laughed when Peter's answer to the cooing was to bite at his neck.

"Shut up."

Shut up Stiles did, for the moment at least, focusing on the feeling of Peter's mouth on the skin of his neck.

Peter lapped at it with his tongue, soothing over the bite only to sink his teeth into the same place again. He worried at the skin applying just enough pressure to send a pleasant shiver down Stiles' spine.

Stiles hummed, still carding his fingers through Peter's hair. "Mm, are you marking me?"

"Are you complaining?"

"Not one bit." In fact, Stiles tilted his head more to the side to give Peter more space to work with.

While Peter's mouth was busy at his throat, Peter's hands still clawed and holding tightly onto Stiles' ass, Stiles locked his legs around the man and pressed closely to the man. He rubbed himself against Peter shamelessly intent on getting at least some friction if Peter planned to spend a lot of time working at his neck.

Peter seemed to think differently though. His hold on Stiles strengthened enough to still the jerky movements of his pelvis.

Peter straightened up to look at Stiles properly, his lips glistening and reddened and looking so appetizing that Stiles had to lean in for a kiss.

"We're not having sex while you reek of my nephew." Peter told him when they finally broke apart.

"Fine, you weirdo." Stiles huffed on a short breath and unwound his legs to push Peter away.

Peter let him, though he stepped back only far enough for Stiles to slide down to the floor, their fronts pressed close. Stiles didn't mind the close proximity at all. He used it to drag Peter's face closer to him by the collar of Peter's shirt, his next words pushed against Peter's mouth.

"If that's the case come help me get clean, make sure I smell only of you."

Peter didn't need to be told twice.


End file.
